The happy procession passed,
and bright colours people coloured
the sound of tambarine drums,
the afternoon`s rising fervour
The swaying rhythm of those drums,
Enigmatic sweet rythms but to the ear
The wild swaying of those bodies,
Lost within fervour `f dance and colours.
And but those drums that seek nothing,
Except to the ear of many alike,
Joy to the ear alike of-
Many short and tall alike.
And breathe life alike, to the sorrowed ear,
The sick and the old alike.